Awkwardly Hilarious Convos
by The Winged Wonder
Summary: Just my friends and I bantering about Maximum Ride. Gets pretty interesting. T for my friend Ahmed's pervertedness and maybe some language in the future. Not a story, just some discussions. You've been warned.
1. Chapter 1

**This is just me and a bunch of my friends talking about Maximum Ride. It's nothing but different conversations that I spun into a story because I was bored. It's pretty funny, and I'm not forcing anyone to read it, but if your friends are like mine, then this will be quite an enjoyable little story for you. **

**Before you start this story, you should get to know the characters that will appear to understand the story better.**

_**Coach Hyde:**_** The seventh grade reading teacher. (Yes, we called her COACH, because she was also the gym teacher.) She has mocha colored skin, brown hair that's curly at the end, and light brown eyes. She's super pretty, as the girly girls in my class liked to remind her every now and then. She has such a strong voice that when she yells, her scream will astound you and make you wonder how such a small woman with a supermodel face (and body) can be the owner of such a voice. She's in her early twenties.**

_**Ahmed: **_**(Pronounced A-med, not Agghhhh-mad, like someone's choking on something, or Ugh-mid.) Pretty much the awesomest guy friend a girl can have. He has light brown skin, black eyes and hair, and is kind of tall for his age. He's one of the most dirty-mouthed, crazy, true-till-the-end, perverted, down-to-earth, and smartest people that anyone can ever meet. (Isn't it kind of awkward that I had so many antonyms in that sentence? Yeah, Ahmed is that kind of guy. You know, the one that blows your freakin' mind.) He was thirteen at the time, but he's almost 15 now. He's one of those dudes that everyone messes with, but still loves.**

_**Iris: **_** All-American, straight A's girl. She's a professional tap-dancer and actress. She has light brown hair to match her eyes and whitening strip teeth. She's one of those super nice and random people that everyone is nice to, even the douchebags of the class. Iris was 12 when this happened. She's 14 now.**

_**Sibe (pronounced see-bay) , the narrator of this story, or The Winged Wonder, as some may call her: **_** I don't know how to describe myself, so I'm leaving this blank. The only thing you should know is that I was 12 when this happened; now I'm turning 14.**

**WARNING: This is, in no way, one of my "best works". I just did this for fun, and if you don't think you'll enjoy it, I don't recommend you read it.**

**Let's get this "show on the road", shall we?**

My eyes scanned over the page, growing wider with each word. I clamped a sweaty hand over my mouth so I wouldn't scream out loud.

"No! No Meggie! Don't do it!" I whispered. I was so lost in my book, _Inkheart, _that I didn't notice the hand on my shoulder.

"Oh my God! Sibe! You have to re—um, Sibe? Are you there? Yoohoo? Earth to Sibe?"

"_What?"_ I snapped, whirling around.

Important Life Lesson: Do _not _mess with a chick who's reading. Especially if this chick's name is Sibe and she's totally zoned out.

"Er, sorry to interrupt you, but I just thought that you should know that I found this book and it's _super freakin' awesome!" _ The last part came out like a squeal.

"So, what's its name?" I asked eagerly.

"Hold on, here's the manga version," Iris replied, fishing around her bag. She brought out a skinny book with a colorful design.

"Huh," I said, taking it and examining it.

The cover showed a blond, angry-looking girl with—holy frick, were those _wings? _With _blood _splattered on them?

"Niicee," I said, nodding, a small smile creeping onto my face. "I love books like this."

"Well, I don't have the book with me, so just read the manga now, and I'll give you the book whenever you finish this, okay?"

"Okay," I said, shrugging. "Sounds good to me."

Twenty minutes later, I turned around and set down the book on her desk.

"Done."

"Holy cow!" (Iris never cusses. Ever. Once, she was singing Tik Tok and she said "jag" instead of "Jack" 'cause she didn't wanna be a "potty-mouth". Yeah. Iris is like that.) "You can't be serious!"

"I am."

"Fine," she said, crossing her arms. "Summarize it."

"No prob. There are 6 bird kids living on their own because this scientist who helped them escape abandoned them. They're all living happy-go-luck till these Eraser things capture the smallest kid. They go after her, the leader meets this chick and saves her life, but gets hurt, so she goes to the chick's house, and the chick's mom is this nice vet who helps the leader get this chip thingy out of her arm, blabadeeblabla. I could give a better summary, if you want."

"No, no," Iris said, grimacing. "I probably won't understand half of the stuff you're saying. It's okay, I get it, you read the manga. I'll give you the book later."

"So, is the book at your house?" I asked eagerly.

"Actually, it's in my locker," Iris said slowly.

"What?" I said, astounded. "You said you couldn't get it!"

"Uh, yeah. We're in class. Duh."

I sighed. Iris was so bad at this "nobody listens to half of the shit in class" thing.

"What's your combo?"

"52, 34, 87," she replied. Iris trusted everyone. She should be lucky I'm not a thief, 'cause Iris is totally loaded, and her locker is a place that anyone would want to live in. You'll see what I mean.

I raised my hand. "Coach Hyde, may I go to the bathroom?"

She didn't look up. "Did you finish reading the pages I assigned?"

"Um, yeah. Like, an hour ago."

She sighed. "Fine, Sibe. Just be back quickly. Oh, and get me a bag of chips from the teacher's lounge while you're at it."

"Uh, okay."

Coach Hyde knew I wasn't really gonna go to the bathroom, and she didn't care. One of the reasons why everybody loves her.

I ran down the hallway, not bothering to check if any teachers were watching me. I had tried to keep my cool while I was talking with Iris, but inside I was burning. The only thought running through my head was "_I must read that book. Now." _

I was panting when I reached Iris's locker. (Yes, I am everyone's role model when it comes to eating healthily and exercising daily.)

I dialed the combination and opened her locker, trying not to be too jealous. Iris's locker was divided into four parts by those locker divider thingies. On the first shelf she had her flip phone—you know, the ones with the keyboards, her iPod Touch, her mini laptop, her Palm, and her digital photo keychain thing. Iris wasn't a selfish girl, but her mom liked to get her a lot of things, even things she didn't ask for. The second row had all of her textbooks and notebooks in alphabetical order. The third row had a bunch of food. (Yup folks. Iris had her own all-you-can-eat buffet. In her freaking locker.) Iris wasn't a picky eater, (_God, Sibe! Think of all those people who don't even have a piece of bread before throwing that meatloaf away!) _and she loved to share, so whenever you were hungry, you'd just go to her. She had shoved her backpack in the last row. I quickly took it out and frantically begin searching inside it. I came up with the book, my eyes glinting.

"Aha. Maximum Ride."

Yes, I said "aha". Yes, it was dorky. No, I do not care.

I slammed Iris's locker shut and ran back to the reading room, stopping to get Coach Hyde her chips.

I entered the room and dropped the chips on Coach Hyde's desk. "Here," I mumbled, not looking up. My eyes were transfixed on the précis on the back of the book. The summary was interesting, but since I'd already read the manga, nothing would be surprising. But I knew I had to read the book too, to understand it.

I slowly sat down and put one arm on my desk. I laid my head on my arm and read….

_Forty minutes later. _(Yes, I read MR in forty minutes. Yes, it's quite possible)

"Oh my freaking GOD!" I yelled, causing everyone to look up from their work to stare at me awkwardly. I turned around. "That was the best freaking book ever! I didn't know the manga was only half of the book! I can't believe Jeb—"

"Whoa!" Iris cut me off, holding up a hand. "I haven't finished the book yet, okay? Not everyone has super reading powers like you. No spoilers please!"

"All right," I sighed. "But who am I supposed to discuss the book with, then?"

Just then, Ahmed plopped down next to Iris. Somehow, Coach Hyde had gotten him to go back to his assigned seat.

"Whatchu readin'?" he asked, picking up the book. "Maximum Ride. Ooh," he said, waggling his eyebrows. "What does this book do, give you a 'maximum ride'?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, Ahmed, _real _funny."

"I don't get it," Iris said, frowning. "What is that even supposed to mea—oh. Oh. _Oh. _Eew, Ahmed! You're such a perv!"

"Thank you, thank you very much," Ahmed said, blowing a kiss at us. "So, what is this, anyways?"

"It's a _book, _Ahmed," I said slowly, giving him my best "no-freaking-duh" look. "They are words, similar to the ones coming out of my mouth, but in a well-organized version, on paper. These papers are bound together with glue, cardboard, string. They are made into hundreds of copies and sold at bookstores, like Borders or Barnes & Noble's. People buy these books to _read _them."

"Ew," Ahmed said, making a face. "Why would anybody want to spend their money on _that?"_

"Because some people actually _like _reading," Coach Hyde said, handing him a paper. He glanced at it, then crumpled it up and slam-dunked it into the trash can.

"Ahmed! Don't you even _care _about what the paper says?" Iris asked incredulously.

"No. And you shouldn't either. Does doing homework get me a girlfriend? No. So there's no reason to take it seriously."

"You _should _take it seriously," Coach Hyde said, crossing her arms over her chest. "We're having a reading contest, and if you don't read at least five books, you're gonna flunk."

"Cool," Ahmed said indifferently. "So I'm gonna be with you next year too."

"Oh God, no. Please," Coach Hyde said, rubbing her temples. "Just read like, five Arthur books or something, okay? I think I'll die if I have to see your face one more time in my class after this year."

"Ooh, that's harsh, Coach," I said, wincing. I knew she was probably kidding, but it was sad to see that what she said didn't insult Ahmed one bit. That kid needed an emotion boost.

Ahmed rolled his eyes and picked up the manga. He studied the cover for a few minutes. Iris and I leaned in, waiting for him to say something.

"Interesting," Ahmed said, stroking his chin.

"And…?" Iris asked, her eyebrows raised.

"She's hot," Ahmed concluded.

"Let's all take a moment of silence for the very much needed facepalm," I said, rolling my eyes.

"What's a facepalm?" Iris inquired.

"A facepalm, my dear friend, is this," I said, taking Ahmed's left hand and slapping him in the face with it.

"Ow!" He yelled, rubbing his nose. "Do _not_ mess with the face. Do you have any clue how valuable it is? Edward Cullen would _die _to have a face like this."

Random fact: Ahmed's not handsome. At least _I _don't think so, and I'm sure 99% of the females in the world will agree with me. (Who is the 1%, you ask? Why, walruses, of course. I love him and stuff, but ew. Ahmed = not handsome. Not in my eyes. But maybe that's just me.)

Iris rolled her eyes at his stupidity, which was totally understandable. "So, have you concluded anything else besides the fact that the girl's attractive?"

Ahmed slowly flipped through the pages, his dark eyebrows knit together. He stopped at a page and pointed to the tall, dark, handsome boy glaring up at us. "So, what's _he _supposed to be? The emo one?"

"_No,'_' I replied, lightly punching him on the arm. "He's Fang, the second-in-command. And just so you know, he's not emo. And even if he was, emo equals hot, so shut up."

"That's attention-grabbing," Ahmed replied, scratching his head.

"Attention-grabbing?" Iris asked, making a genuine WTF? (Or in Iris' case, What the frick?) face. "Does anyone even _say _things like 'attention-grabbing'?"

"So, if I want girls to like me, I have to grow out my hair, wear black, pretend I'm emo, and walk around like I have something up my ass?" Ahmed continued, ignoring Iris.

"Precisely," I answered, trying to keep a straight face.

Just then, the bell rang, ending our rather pleasant conversation. Ahmed picked up the book and tucked it under his arm. "Let's continue this delightful banter in math class, shall we?" he asked, winking at us.

**So, it was as random as I said it would be, but hey, that's the story of my life. I end up in the weirdest, most extraordinary situations ever. I don't expect this to get famous, or to get a lot of reviews. I just wanted to share it with you guys 'cause I am random like that.**

**I just have one question, though: Do you guys have any friends that are like Ahmed or Iris? Or maybe like me? **

**Just wondering.**

**-TWW-**


	2. Chapter 2

"So," Ahmed said, tapping the page. "Is he gay?"

"No!" Iris exclaimed, staring at him incredulously. "Obviously not!"

"Iggy's awesome," I added, nodding.

"I would _so_ fall for him if Fang didn't exist," Iris said. "Don't you agree?" she asked me.

"Eh," I replied, shrugging. "I love both of them. Go Figgy!"

"Figgy?" Ahmed asked, his eyes widening. "As in: Fang and Iggy? So they _are _gay!"

"No!" I groaned. "Figgy as in: Fang and Iggy, but not in _that _way! What I'm trying to say is that they both rock!"

"Whatever," Ahmed responded, rolling his eyes. He studied the manga for another few minutes quietly before abruptly breaking the silence and declaring that Max, Fang, and Iggy were having a threesome, because there was no other explanation for why James Patterson would make them all the same age. To him, the only reasonable explanation for the three of them being fourteen was them having a love affair.

Iris stared at Ahmed for a long time, her head cocked to one side. "What's a threesome?"

"A threesome, my innocent friend, is a—" Ahmed started, but he wasn't able to finish his sentence because of the hand I clamped over his mouth.

"You do _not _want to know. Trust me," I assured her. I turned to Ahmed. "You," I said, pointing an accusing finger at him, "are a very perverted, sick person. I do not understand how in the name of all things chocolate-related you are my friend!"

"Maybe you're attracted to funny pervs?" he guessed.

"No….Just…no," I replied, disgusted.

"What's a threesome?" Iris asked once again.

"Nothing!" We both yelled at the same time.

"Anyhow," Ahmed said, turning back to the book. "If they're not having a threesome, then _he's _hittin' on _her. _Hard." He pointed to Fang, and next, Nudge.

"Fang and Nudge?" Iris made a face. "Fudge?"

"Yeah! Look: their names even make a word together! They were meant to be!" Ahmed exclaimed.

"No." I shook my head. "You _do _realize that she's only 11? And he's 14?"

"So?" Ahmed shrugged. "True love cannot be stopped by conventions!"

"I think I just puked in my mouth a little," I said.

"They're exact opposites," Iris added. "Fang is strong and silent, whereas Nudge is super talkative and spontaneous."

"Opposites attract," Ahmed said. Iris replied by sticking her tongue out at him.

"By the way," Ahmed started. "How can this chick be eleven? Either those scientists injected her with something to make her look like that, or she's the bustiest eleven-year-old out there."

"It's impossible for you to look at a picture of a female—even if she _is _just part of a manga—without making a sexist, weird comment, isn't it?" I sighed.

"At least he didn't say anything about Angel yet," Iris muttered under her breath.

"I'm getting to her, don't you worry," Ahmed said, grinning in a very creeper-child-like way. To say it scared the hell out of me would be the underestimation of the century.

"You're aware of the fact that you would make a perfect pedo in another life, right?" I asked.

"And you would make a perfect bitch, or, in other words, a perfect mini-Paris Hilton."

Somehow, I wasn't insulted. You learn not to take Ahmed seriously.

"Okay," Ahmed continued, rubbing his hands together. "Angel. She's supposed to be the 'sweet' one, right?"

Iris and I both nodded. Ahmed flipped through the book, only stopping to examine the pictures of Angel. After a few minutes, he closed the book with a satisfied _snap!_

"She's a total bitch-slut," he declared loudly.

The math teacher (whose name I will not mention for private reasons, so let's just call him PoopHead, shall we?) looked up. "Vat did you say?" he asked in his broken English.

"I said 'She's a bitch-slut'," Ahmed responded, his voice rising. "Do you need hearing aids?"

Iris gasped. "How can you talk like that to a teacher?"

"Yes. I vas just about to ask dat."

"Sorry," Ahmed said without any feeling in his voice.

"Van muhr time, and you're out," PoopHead wagged his finger warningly.

"Out of _what?" _Ahmed muttered under his breath.

I knew Ahmed was getting annoyed, and when Ahmed gets annoyed, well, let's just say you better have a good hiding place, so I immediately changed the subject.

"Why do you think Angel's a bitch-slut?"

"_Please! _Just look at the clothes she's wearing. Everyone would be able to see her junk if she fell over! Only prostitutes dress that way!"

"Everyone would…see her _junk?" _Iris asked, her eyebrows knitting together. "You know, I miss the days where junk would mean 'useless things'."

"Yeah, and in Angel's case, her junk _is _pretty useless, 'cause she's like, what? Five?"

"Six," Iris and I replied simultaneously.

"What difference does it make?" Ahmed asked, raising an eyebrow. "She's not gonna get laid with _that _look. No one likes a girl that looks 'just precious.' We men prefer 'hot' or 'damn sexy' women. That girl needs a total makeover."

"Actually, she gets one. So does the rest of the flo—"

"Sibe!" Iris whined.

"Oh, right. You're not finished with the book. Sorry."

"And what's with this guy?" Ahmed continued, pointing to The Gasman. "Why does he look hypnotized? What is it with this artist and creepy eyes?"

"Oh, come _on_," Iris said, taking the book from him and flipping to one of the first pages. "You've gotta agree that he looks adorable here." She pointed to a picture of him in striped pajamas, his hair standing straight, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

"Aww," I smiled a little. "That picture is so cute."

"He looks like a fag," Ahmed replied automatically.

"Were you programmed not to have any feelings?" I inquired.

"I'll show you something interesting," Ahmed said to Iris, completely ignoring me and my snide comment. He flipped to a page where Max was looking out of her window, right after she'd had that nightmare.

"What's so 'interesting' about it?" Iris asked.

"She's in her freakin' underwear!" Ahmed cackled like a madman. Iris took the book and peered closely at the picture. After a few minutes, her eyes widened, she sucked in a breath and threw the book at Ahmed. It bonked (can't find another verb to describe it) him on the head and he yelped out in pain. Everyone looked up to see the source of the noise and Mr. PoopHead strode over and picked up the book. He slammed it on the desk and looked testily into Ahmed's black eyes.

"I sed it vas your last varning. You chose not to listun. Now you must pay the consickuences."

"You know," Iris said, leaning over to whisper in my ear. "I don't get what he's saying half of the time."

"Me neither," I answered from the corner of the mouth. "But I've learned to nod and smile and just go with the flow."

"You vill now stay after class and vrite an essay about intejurs."

Suddenly, the bell rang, startling all of us. PoopHead smiled sickly and laid a bunch of papers on Ahmed's desk. "Haf fon, little boy," he said snidely before strolling out of the room.

Ahmed used a few words that I cannot write. (Let's just say it's the worst thing you can say about your mother's aunt's niece's pet.)

I gave him a look that said "_Sorry, but there's nothing I can do" _and shrugged. Iris and I collected our things and walked out of the class, leaving behind a steaming Ahmed.

* * *

**Ahmed rocks. Period. :)**

**-TWW-**


End file.
